


As The World Falls Down

by SureAsEggs



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/F, these two are a beautiful disaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 07:01:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12743370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SureAsEggs/pseuds/SureAsEggs
Summary: While infected with the Tetch virus, Lee gets ahold of Barbara.





	As The World Falls Down

Barbara blinks awake in what has to be Lee’s home. It’s old-time luxury, dark wood and gauzy curtains, perfect for a mob widow but not quite right for the bombshell brunette staring Barbara down from across the table.

“Straight to the knockout drugs, huh?” Barbara rubs her head, fixes her hair. She’s not tied up, but she doesn’t have to be; she’s no match for the Tetch virus. “You couldn’t buy a girl a drink and see where things went?”

Lee slides her a glass of water. “How’s this?”

Barbara quirks an eyebrow at her. “You’re still a little new to this violent kidnapping thing.”

Lee smiles back, dark and dangerous. Barbara drinks the water, watching the way Lee watches her. Remembering how she’d stared as Lee drank coffee in her own apartment, how Lee’s lips had kissed the rim of Barbara’s mug.

She lingers over the glass a little longer than she has to.

“You took the time out of your big breakdown to come after little old me,” Barbara drawls, settling back in her dining chair. “Why?”

Barbara can’t tell, can’t read Lee's hard dark eyes or her perfect mouth.

Did Lee come for her because of Jim?

God, she hopes not.

Lee doesn’t give her an answer. “I could kill you,” she says instead. Her eyes are swallowed up in black, just for a moment, glinting like obsidian. “I’ve never killed anyone before, but I could kill you, right now.”

Barbara grins. “You won on my home turf. Who says I won’t win on yours?”

Lee stands up. She moves slowly, languidly, trailing her hand along the tabletop like she’s got all the time in the world to make her way to Barbara.

Barbara can feel her heartbeat picking up, pulsing in her fingertips.

Lee might kill her. She might. But then, somebody is bound to, sooner rather than later. It’ll be Butch most likely, or else Barbara will wind up caught in the crossfire between Oswald and Nygma, and she’ll deserve it just as much as they would if it were the other way around.

With Lee, it wouldn’t be about what they deserved. It would be about what they  _want_. They could do it right, break all the rules, make it bloody and intimate and gorgeous.

God, Barbara wants to go at it again with her. Fear and anger scraping off under their fingernails, slicing through all the masks and the lies and peeling them away.

She wants to make Lee  _see_  her, like the day in the chapel, like the twisted therapy session when they’d wound up locked together with their hands in each other’s hair.

Lee has to feel it too, has to want it, has to be desperate for one thing in this fucking city that makes her feel  _real_. Why else would she have brought Barbara here?

Barbara feels flushed and dizzy with Lee’s stare fixed on her. She trails her hands down the front of her white fur coat and pushes it off her lap to hang over the sides of the chair. One of her dark lace stockings has come unhooked from her garter belt, the strap brushing against her bare thigh.

Barbara pulls her dress back a few inches and fixes herself up.

Lee’s eyes bleed black again, and it would be hard to tell if she was looking if Barbara couldn’t feel the heat from her gaze.

Lee leans down and tucks a strand of Barbara’s hair back into place, fingers ghosting against the shell of her ear and making her shudder. “You think you’re going to win?”

Barbara lets her knees fall open. “Oh, I already have, baby. I got you to take me home, didn’t I?”

The smile that gets her sends shivers down Barbara’s spine.

Lee sits back against the dining table, head tipped to the side, hair feathering against her neck. “Alright,” she says. “Let’s play. Your move, Babs.”

Barbara doesn’t need to be told twice.

She slides forward off her chair and hits her knees, grinning up at Lee when she hears that first surprised intake of breath. “What? You didn’t think I was all talk, did you?”

“You’re still talking.”

Barbara flips her off, then hooks her thumbs under the hem of Lee’s dress and pushes it upward. She takes advantage of her fur coat, making sure the sleeves brush against Lee’s thighs.

She feels Lee shiver.

She traces up Lee’s legs with her fingers next, then kisses the inside of her thigh, slow and warm, the hum of approval making her head spin.

It’s getting too hot for fur.

Barbara shrugs out of her coat, enjoying the annoyed face Lee pulls while she waits. “Oh, come on. I know for a fact you’ve had more frustrating foreplay than this.”

“Shut up,” Lee says. She’s a little short of breath.

“You’re right, I should take this more seriously,” Barbara murmurs, sketching over the edge of her panties with her fingertips. “After all, this could be life or death for me."

She doesn’t give Lee a chance to answer.

Lee’s skin is smooth and soft, but it feels too hot against her mouth, like she’s burning up from the inside. Barbara thinks she knows how it feels, having that desperation in your blood. She’s been looking for relief for years: in Tabitha’s secret smiles, in Nygma’s wild-eyed obsessions.

Lee’s still convinced Jim can give her what she needs.

Barbara aims to show her otherwise, pressing wet teasing kisses through soft fabric, pulling Lee in by the backs of her legs and feeling her tremble.

She chases the taste, chases Lee’s gasps, feels Lee’s hands find their way into her hair when she finally gets the barrier out of the way and has Lee sweet and hot on her tongue.

Barbara looks up to find Lee staring down at her, face damp with sweat, eyes pitch black.

“Don’t stop,” Lee breathes. “Don’t you dare.”

Barbara doesn’t. She puts her fingers to work alongside her mouth, rubbing slick and warm the way she’s aching to be touched herself. Hell, it wouldn't take much to get off just like this, just from Lee panting above her, half begging for and half demanding her mouth.

It’s a power trip, but it’s something else too, something that has her lightheaded and single-minded, something that’s burning through her veins the way the virus is burning through Lee’s. It’s going to stay with her for as long as she can survive in this city, she’s going to replay this for herself when she’s alone at night and afraid she’s going out of her mind.

Barbara puts every trick she’s ever learned to work, drawing it out, flickering teases and laughing little hums, and finally, Lee shuts her eyes and tips her head back, gasping. Barbara pulls her closer and works her through it, knowing that for this one moment in their lives, nobody else fucking exists.

Lee must not be ready to let that feeling go. 

As soon as she opens her eyes, she all but tackles Barbara to the floor with the raw power of the virus, pinning her wrists down with one hand hard enough to bruise.

Her eyes aren’t black anymore, just deep and dark enough to die for, and Barbara stares into them while Lee shoves her hand up and under her dress. Her breath stutters out into a whimper when Lee touches her, working her fingers inside with an almost frenzied intensity.

It’s rough, and overwhelming, and so good Barbara can’t think straight, can only fixate on how gorgeous Lee looks and how long she’s wanted somebody to want her like this, how messy and fucked up and perfect it is.

It builds until she knows she can’t last any longer. 

“Lee,” she gasps.

Lee lets go of her wrists and grabs a handful of her hair. She kisses her.

It’s feverish and too hard, and Barbara tangles her hands in Lee’s perfect dark hair and kisses back, whimpering into her mouth, pushing back into her hand and almost sobbing when the climax hits her.

It’s a little while before she can do anything but lie there and remember how to breathe.

When Barbara finally pushes herself up to sit, wrecked and breathing hard, she finds Lee looking back at her in exactly the same situation.

Their hair is a disaster, plastered to their faces. Their eyes are too bright. Their clothes are a mess, and Barbara can feel what a mess she is underneath.

There’s nothing to say.

Lee stands up first, tugging at her dress like she can hide the evidence of Barbara’s touch.

Barbara doesn’t bother, getting to her feet and taking one unsteady step forward.

“You should go,” Lee says, back turned.

“What,” Barbara teases. “All that, and you’re not even gonna kill me?” Her voice is shaky.

“Get out,” Lee says, and it shouldn’t be this crushing that she won’t turn around, won’t look Barbara in the face. “I have a train to catch.”

Jim. Of course. This was supposed to be a warmup act. She’s still after Jim.

“Send me a wedding announcement,” Barbara laughs, a little hysterical. “I’ll buy you two a waffle iron.”

Lee doesn’t answer. Barbara gathers up her coat and heads for the door as fast as her trembling legs will carry her, ready to do her ridiculous version of a post-kidnapping walk of shame. Ready to go looking for some grand finale, some big show-stopping finish, some impossible way to go out that might hold a candle to this.

“Barbara?”

Finally,  _finally_ , Lee’s turned to look at her. Her eyes are still clear, not black like before.

“You’re the only person in this fucking city worth hating. You know that?”

With one hand on the door handle, Barbara blows her a kiss. “Back at you, baby.”

**Author's Note:**

> (I... have never written anything sex-related before. Any feedback is therefore GREATLY appreciated.)


End file.
